I'm bombing horribly at Silent Hill Homecoming, especially against two humungoid praying mantis like creatures with big ole slice-n-dicer appendages. I'm not that adept with the dodge combos - Lord, it was certainly simple back in the day! I made the mistake of unloading my pistol ammo on some other baddies when I could have just simply avoided them, so I have nothing but my melee skills and weaponary against these things. And boy, do I suck to the highest power. Whatever to happened to just holding down L2 with hitting the X button repeatedly?
But enough of my rantery, here's a picture! A bathroom mirror pic! One of my livejournal pals thinks there should be a flickr group.
One of the models working for the school gave me the prettiest costume necklace. And an instructor came up to me with a gingerbread man and said, "You look like you need one of these.".
With the mood I'm in now, I most certainly do, especially after a brief, insightful chat with a certain beloved. I promptly unwrapped the gingerbread man and bit his head off.
Why the hell did you choose today of all days to plant an odoriferous one in your litter box? Since coming into my custody, I have not had any problems concerning the state or smell of your litter box and its contents, until this morning. Like, 10 minutes till I had to leave the house for the bus. Your morning dump seriously filled Lori's old room entirely. 5 minutes is not enough to air it out, so I burnt two overly-scented candles in hopes of getting the worst of it out of the air.
I'm sorry to say, dear Phattums, that I shall have to evict you from your Mommy's old room (woman ain't paying your rent, so I see no need to give you free reign over it) and restrict you to the garage entry way. You will find your litter box conveniently placed nearby for your use, as well as your water and food dispenser which will be brought in during the evenings to prevent those dastardly masked bandits who sneak in through the pet door from stealing your nibbles. Your living room privileges remain, as well as our scheduled cuddling sessions on the couch.
Sometimes I hate PBS, especially during pledge weekends. I just want to watch Poirot or Granada Sherlock, not some pledge program about folk music (no offense) or tax advice. Good thing I have my own Poirot DVDs to tide me over today. I'm currently watching Evil Under the Sun with a young Russell Tovey guest starring.
I do have pics of Thursday night with Jerri my Mother in Law, Will's grandma, and Jackie. We popped into a store half an hour before going to the Kabuki to see Black Swan. Everything is so dang cute, but expensive.
They spawn in different colors.
I love the Egglings! I may go back for them.
Will's lil'sis Jackie. Yes, she was mighty hungry that night!
I didn't have a drop of alcohol that night. I swear. I don't look drunk.
Soooooo...while cruising a website that never gave me a hard time in the past, I got infected once again with an anti-virus VIRUS that proceeded to 'scan' my computer for viruses without my permission. I tried to use both my anti-malware and Trend Micro programs but the stupid faux anti-virus wouldn't let me do much of anything. I did what I did the last time I got hit with this thing and so far my laptop is working as it should. I did a quick scan after I managed to get it working again and my anti-malware found and deleted the evil little bugger. I then ran a full system scan during the night and another scan with Trend Micro this morning. I'm going to do it again once I get home tonight. As for that website, hehehe...I'm going to have to get my jollies somewhere else. This is all my dear Hubby's fault, he recommended the website!
I can smell the beef jerky tenders on my lips. Damn salt craving! I bring savory wheat thins from home and most of the time they hit the spot, but today they're just not doing anything for me, so I have to resort to the downstairs vending machines to for satisfaction.
Dammit, I think I want another tiny bag of jerky! Dammit all!
The Kinokuniya Bookstore at Japantown on Geary St. is where I go every other weekend or whenever I feel low on creativity.
See the gorgeous image-heavy mooks (magazine+books). Pardon the second pic. For some reason, it will only upload that way. Anywhoo, check out the mook in the first pic with the yummy flan on the cover!
Everytime I go to the Kinokuniya, I leave hungry. Time for a snack.
I was seriously tempted to have lunch in Japantown but manage to stave off hunger with these little babies.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Happy Post Turkey Day! I ate all my leftovers Friday night. And I overdid it with the pie. Yep. My fat ass has sworn revenge.
Anywhoo, I've gotten started on making my wedding binder, the materials (basic three-ring binder, tabs, and filler paperohcrapolaIknow!) costing less than $5 at Safeway. I finally got to recycle the heavy cardstock pages from last year's calender to make binder pockets for keeping magazine cutouts and sticky notes. I'm quite proud of my first unofficial DIY wedding project, even though it pales in comparison to the much cuter, more creative wedding binders I've seen online, but I have loads of time to fill this baby up with ideas and things.
Because I'm so bad at miscalculating the weather in San Francisco (just don't trust it, 'nuff said.) I went out early this morning for a walk through Golden Gate. I purposefully left both my umbrella and rain-proof windbreaker at home. Five minutes into my power stridin', big fat drops sudden appeared out of the sky and I was forced to seek shelter underneath an overpass. Here's my Before shot.
The oversize pullover sweater I had on was huge enough but actually did nothing to keep me warm, so I stood shivering and damp as I waited for the rain to stop. When it seemed to lessen somewhat, I jumped out and continued my walk towards the de Young Museum. Barely five minutes and it started to rain again! I ran back to the overpass, even more drenched than before. I had to wait longer this time, and when I saw a chance, I hightailed it back home. Meh. The moment I set foot inside, it stopped completely. I waited until an hour after lunch to venture back outside, when I was totally sure that i wasn't going to be punk'd by the elements.
Wore my windbreaker this time. It's that time of the season again.
Having worked for a mildly popular, semi-luxury retail chain, I do understand what it's like to work the register and deal with long lines. You go at the pace that you're comfortable but still keep it steady. I'm a veteran of the chaos and total anarchy that is Black Friday
If only the guy at the register at Starbucks adhered to this. While I think its great that you're friendly and ask whether or not the customers wants whipped cream on their Gingerbread latte or if they would like their bagel toasted in an easy-going, chillaxin'sorta fashion, you must keep in mind that right in front of you, the queue is two miles long and that it consists mostly of people who just want to pick up their coffee and sugar treats before heading into work. Like, in five minutes. So really, is it necessary to chat up the tourists who appear to have all the time in the world, while the normal, barely-awake city inhabitants stew impatiently for their turn.
One of the instructors here at my building just told me that Mrs. Fields down the street has better muffins and bagels and better coffee. Seriously? I've always associated Mrs. Fields with unhindered, unbridled sugary cookie goodness. May give it a shot some other morning.
I'm a bad, bad blogger. And diarist. I do remember taking loads of pictures on my Iphone over the weekend to post, but I never got around to downloading them off said Iphone to my laptop. This is why I'll never get around to writing the next great American novel. Which might be a good thing, because my fiction tends to be random. And very naughty.
Did some home shopping yesterday afternoon, and bought new sheets for the bed. Ahhh, the novelty of satin-like sheets with pillow cases to match, all slippery and shiny dark brown like ripples of bittersweet chocolate. And I bought them from Ross for $12, score! All was fine and dandy til I tried to sleep and found my pillows constantly sliding from underneath my head every time I laid on them. *grumbles*
At least the pillows I bought for the couch were a better decision.
One of the techs upstairs told me that his girlfriend's friend who just happens to work for the Giants said that a lot of peeps in Texas were talking crap about SF and our team right to their faces just as soon as they got off the plane at the airport. Derogatory crap like, "Go back to San Francisco, fags!" and "Fucking gays!".
Well, to all those nice folks who thought and said those wonderful things, IN YOUR FACE, BI-ATCH!!! SF BEAT YO' ASSES HARD! CAN YOU FEEL THAT, HUH?! CAN YOU FEEL THAT!?!
It's going to be gray all weekend, I hear. It's alright though.
I have Oat Bran pancakes!
Since I still lack a coffee table, I'm using a bamboo ottoman and this fun tray to eat on.
Add a few banana slices and a drizzle of sugar-free, low-cal syrup and I'm good to go!
Try not to go blind from the odd color scheme going on here.
I have one more tomato left in the fridge so I'm gonna try frying it. I'm thinking of either using an egg wash or plain flour to coat the slices. My mouth is watering already.
I've added a few more Paris blogs to my Google Reader, and two of them are dessert-oriented. I enjoy torturing myself with big and beautiful pics of pastel-hued macaroons, eclairs, and other sinful delights, especially on Gym days.
Around 7:45 am, a student comes down to the front desk with a wall clock in hand. "It's not working." he says.
I blink in response. "I think the battery is dead." he goes on. Passing behind him with is one of the directors whose office is practically behind the front desk.
"If it's dead, why is the second hand moving?" I ask. The student looks at the clock and comments, "Hm. Now it's working. Wasn't before."
"Uh-huh." I've already begun to ignore him in favor of watching other students who are presenting their IDs to me as they pass. The student with the wall clock goes back upstairs and the minute he leaves, the director who had been watching the brief exchange starts laughing.
3 minutes later, the same student comes back with the same clock. "It's really not working."
"Go to the admin office and asks if they have batteries." Yes, it's a brush-off, but nowhere in my job description does it say that I'm responsible for the upkeep of the buildings' wall clocks. I am not your mother, nor am I maintenance, so please don't treat me as such or all you'll get from me is Snarky-Ms.SnarksAlot.
Daydreaming of pastel-colored pastries right now. Eclairs, macaroons, and last week's red velvet cake. I blame parisbreakfasts for this. I'm fighting the urge to drop by Safeway after work to buy a muffin pan and brownie mix.
Hang on! I have pancake mix at home! Sa-weeeeeeeeeet!
Going to a swanky event with my Mother-in-law, but at a loss as to what to wear. I have a three hours till she comes to pick me up, so I have time to play dress-up. Sipping on a smoothie made of carrot juice, Greek yogurt, and one banana.
Fifteen minutes ago, I was half-listening to an instructor talk to his class about John Singer Sargent, the artist who painted the lovely Madame X. It was interrupted by the loud chatter of the cleaning lady and a deliveryman who planted themselves right outside of the classroom. This prompted the instructor to close the door on them and ME. *sigh*
I'm going to delve into the volatile realm of cult film and put Gradiva ((C'est Gradiva qui vous appelle) in my Netflix queue. It was released in 2006 and it was directed by Alain Robbe Grillet. James Wilby is the only recognizeable face in the credits.
I've read the plot synopsis, read all the reviews, and watched a few vids online. I'm still 'all systems go' to watch this film, despite my queasiness over the subject matter...and other things. Curiousity is getting the better of me. That and the need to hear Wilby speak French.. Hopefully one viewing will be enough for me. It's kinda like debating whether or not to read my husband's copy of HP Lovecraft's Necronomicon : 'I kinda want to read it but I'm kinda scared to read it....It looks interesting but I think reading it may open a portal to Hell or turn me into a tentacle Cthulu Dunwich Horror thing...' Kinda like that, except I'm afraid of turning into an unapologetic perv.
Gah! I'm an adult! I can do this!
The Blue Angels are back in town! Big Ole jet planes swooping the city!
This reminds me of the previous Fleet Week here in SF. I was on Polk St. doing a little thrift shopping that weekend, and all you could hear outside were the jets. I overheard some flaky chick in a knit cap with cat ears and too much green eyeshadow remark to herself, "Fuck you, I hope you crash." Kids.
Breakfast consisted of a bagel with cream cheese on one side, butter on the other, and coffee, all on a tray, and eaten on the living room floor. I think that I'm going to need a good, cheap vacuum more than a coffee table.
Also baked a red velvet cake over the weekend. Should have really invested in cream cheese frosting instead of chocolate.
I hate the news. I must stop watching the news. I'm going to live in a bubble.
Well, the hubby got a head start on his shopping and bought a desk. Great. I don't have a kitchen table now. Don't even have a vacuum. I'm waiting on those two things til I have the extra money to spend, after I pay my bills. But he went ahead and bought a desk, and maybe a pricey external harddrive.
I do love an good overdraft. Don't you, darling? You make me love you more and more each day, so much more, I'm going to live in a bubble, watch films where beautiful men make beautiful love to each other, and fantasize about beautiful men making beautiful love to each other.
The soon-to-be Ex-housemate actually rented a steamer cleaner to clean our carpeting. She also borrowed a neighbor's Dyson vacuum cleaner, you know, the one with the Ball technology. I'm really itching to use that thing. Really. I can easily skip the gym after work today just to toy with that sucker and really see if it can get 'round corners like it boasts on tv.
Haven't been able to quit Maurice. I have the dvd on both my Amazon Wishlist and Netflix queue, and I'm addicted to watching bit and pieces of the film online. Yes, the torrid scenes are definitely my cup of tea, but always, always after watching the end (*SPOILERS*Clive staring out of the window sadly, wistfully as he imagines Maurice back at Cambridge beckoning him to come with him*SPOILERS*) I find myself going to the computer and dropping my husband an email, telling him how much I miss him.
Gah!!! I own the September 2007 issue of Vogue! I didn't think that it was the very same one The September Issue revolves around until that scene where Sienna Miller came to the magazine's offices in NY to check out her sweet wardrobe. I went straight to my magazine tower and there it was waaaaaaaay at the bottom! It is almost in pristine condition, but I lament that the first few pages of that 20's-Era John Galliano shoot have been torn out! I don't know what happened to them; I filched the magazine from work because it was being used as a placemat in the breakroom! Really?! Swipe! It's mine now, suckers!
Whenever I see the editor of American Vogue these days, I can't help but think, "Hmm, it's The Curious Case of Anna Wintour!" because I think she's aging in reverse. Why, at fifteen years old, did I think she look like she was older, like in her 60's? She certainly doesn't look like that at the present.
Beautiful Saturday morning, with so much sunshine and green! I've thrown open my bedroom door so that the natural light pouring in through my bedroom window can come into the living room. Unfortunately, the soon to be Ex Housemate hasn't realized how lovely sunshine really is and insists on keeping the living room feeling like a cavern by leaving the lamp on while she's on the computer. We have WiFi, yet she can't take her laptop into her own room.
Beautiful Saturday morning out. Why go to the gym when I have an entire park and beach to wander??
Last week for the housemate, and she still hasn't really started on packing. Watched Evan Almighty this morning but really couldn't enjoy it because her door was ajar, and she and her man were talking and laughing waaay too loudly.
Spent half an hour shredding paper junk, and now I'm going to reorganize stuff in my room before I let myself go out to enjoy my lazy ass weekend. I wish you were here, dear husband of mine. I miss you like crazy.
Oh wonderful! Lori is back and she's turned on her stereo. *sigh*
Bought the October issue of Vogue and read it on the bus this morning. Sheesh, when was the last time I ever read anything on the bus other than my Iphone? Anywhoo, Cary Mulligan is lovely as usual, like an awkward pixie doll.
A small cafe au lait and a chocolate brioche from Emporio Rulli on Union Square: $5.75. I'd say a 1.25 less at Starbucks, but I am quite sick and tired of Starbucks and I like EP's chocolate brioche because it's smaller and flakier than a Starbucks croissant.
Here's something to talk about: I'm looking forward to my housemate finally moving out at the end of the this month. I've always felt held back from experimenting in our in-law's small kitchen because she and I share it. And my housemate tends to spread all her things out on the scant counter space and half the table space. I'm planning on spending a weekend after she leaves totally overhauling the cabinets to make the kitchen space more accessible and less cluttered. Anything she leaves behind I will either keep or donate.
I'm getting delusions of House Beautiful!